


send my love on a wire

by sleepyshamrocks



Series: a melancholy town where we always smile [1]
Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, HSAU, also there's seven minutes in heaven where everybody gets some, josie and hope are best friends, lizzie is hot, penelope is popular and super smart, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 14:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18576817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyshamrocks/pseuds/sleepyshamrocks
Summary: “Fuck Penelope Park,” Josie says through a mouthful of cafeteria lasagna. “Seriously, you’d think that someone so obsessed with partying like her would have other priorities than gunning for the top position in class, but no, she just had to get her nasty little claws all over our teacher and snatch it from me.”“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Hope replies absentmindedly.orJosie and Penelope have beef. Hope just wants to stare at Lizzie. HSAU.





	send my love on a wire

**Author's Note:**

> i really should be working on my other fic but figured that a break wouldn't hurt. also i wrote this in one sitting and i'm too sleepy to check for mistakes so forgive me if you find any. cheers to these dorks.

 

The world is unfair. Josie knows that better than anyone. A dead birth mother, an absent pseudo-mother, a functioning alcoholic of a father, and a twin sister with a penchant for dramatics and emotional breakdowns haven’t exactly been the easiest things to deal with growing up. But she’s moved past that. Having had to deal with the most dysfunctional of families means that there’s not a lot of things left in the world that can faze her now.

Except for one. Fucking. Penelope. Park.

“I’m handing you your test back. Make sure to study from your mistakes. Most of you desperately need to put in more effort if you even want to think about passing the finals. Josie,” Mr. Williams says as he slides her her paper, “good job.”

Josie wants to sink down in her seat. The red A glares at her from below, branded with disappointment, and she closes her eyes for the inevitable.

The devil pokes her from behind. “Whatcha get, Jojo?”

“Go away, Park,” she mumbles.

“Oh, come on.” A hand reaches past her shoulder and snatches the paper from her desk, pterodactyl-like.

“Hey!”

“Aww, you misspelled Gorbachev’s full name. It’s okay, we all make mistakes.”

Josie’s raises her eyebrows. “We do?” She sneaks a hopeful glance at Penelope’s paper and rolls her eyes at the proud A+. “Asshole.”

“It’s just history. Some of us are better at it than others, no need to get upset over it.”

“What do you know about history? You misquoted Einstein’s last words at the last trivia bowl and cost us the championship, remember?” Josie snaps, and takes pleasure at the way Penelope stiffens defensively.

“Hey, no need to get personal. Allison and I broke up that weekend, I think I was entitled to a few tears. And it wouldn’t have been that way if it wasn’t my job to carry the entire team on my back. Besides, I don’t recall you answering anything. Don’t play the blame game with me,” Penelope sniffs.

“Ladies, if you could keep this until the end of class,” Mr. Williams reprimands. “Or until the end of the year, preferably,” he mutters, then scuttles away from the twin glares shot his way.

“Did you get on your knees for that A+ too?” Josie says under her breath, but apparently not low enough because Penelope manages to catch it.

“Excuse me?” Penelope’s tone is biting. “Did Josie Saltzman just slut shame me? In this feminist day and age?”

“Girls,” Mr. Williams says tiredly. The entire class holds its breath. Verbal showdowns between the two smartest people in class have proven to be a consistent source of entertainment in the midst of monotone lectures.

“Jealousy looks good on you. Maybe save it for the next time I spend seven minutes in a closet with your ex. Or wasn’t the last time good enough?” Josie isn’t even looking at her, but she wants to smack the shit-eating grin she knows is all over the other girl’s face.

No one gets on her nerves as quickly as Penelope. Josie doesn’t even understand why Penelope constantly gets out of her way to tease and poke her. What beef does the most popular girl in school have with a nerd drifting between the second and third strata of the social ladder?

The bell finally rings, to everyone’s disappointment but Mr. William’s. “Get out of here. And don’t forget to turn in your essays by next Thursday. Happy weekend,” he yells at the throng of students pushing out the door. “I need a break.”

Josie shoves her things down her backpack and prays that Penelope feels satisfied enough with her last word to keep her mouth shut.

But no. Because when has Satan ever passed up the chance to cause misery in perfectly innocent people.

“Loosen up, Saltzman. Maybe a party will do you good. Tonight, my place, at eight.” Penelope winks.

Josie flips her off. “I’d rather not spend my Friday night getting shitfaced and warding off sweaty jocks, thanks.”

Penelope has the audacity to look offended. “Excuse you. My parties are better than whatever stereotypical low-grade mosh pits you’ve been to. Come tonight and you’ll find out.”

“Pass. I’d rather go to a middle school party than go to one with you in it. Bye.” Josie speeds past her and the door before she can hear a reply.

She goes through the next two classes (which are thankfully devoid of the presence of the clown from IT) drama-free, save for Jed picking on Landon (again), and rushes to the school cafeteria with the speed of an anime character.

“Hope. I have news.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Hope pushes the food tray at her. “Got you some of these. The kids went crazy when they found out there would be Oreos today. The drawbacks of sugar deprivation, I tell you.”

“Fascinating. And thank you. But I have bigger things to rant about.”

“And that would be…”

“Fuck Penelope Park,” Josie says through a mouthful of subpar lasagna. “Seriously, you’d think that someone so obsessed with partying like her would have other priorities than gunning for the top position in class, but no, she just had to get her nasty little claws all over our teacher and snatch it from me.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Hope replies absentmindedly, then whines when she earns a smack on the arm. “Ow.”

“Are you staring at Lizzie?” They both turn to look at where the blonde is sitting with her friends from the soccer team, all tight shirts and toned legs. Josie rolls her eyes, Hope sighs sappily.

“Stop it. Bad idea.”

Hope takes a bite out of her apple. “Your sister’s hot. I’d feel more uncomfortable saying that if you guys weren’t fraternal.”

“She has the impulse control of a toddler. She had a bag of potato chips and boxed wine for breakfast. Plus, she kinda hates you.”

“No, she doesn’t! I bumped into her three days ago and she called me Mope. She talked to me!”

“Hope, sweetie…” She doesn’t have the heart to remind Hope of the time she accidentally spilled punch all over Lizzie’s dress during sophomore prom right before she was crowned queen, thus igniting a slight one-sided animosity from Lizzie’s side. Never mind that Hope has been her sister’s best friend for five whole years.

“Ooh, I forgot. Nia said Penelope’s throwing a party tonight. Wanna come?”

Josie levels her a disbelieving look. “After everything I just told you? Bad move.”

“Look, I know that you and Penelope have this, like, weird sexual thing going on, what with your obsessions with getting over a 95 in every assignment, but I’m gonna need you to put a hold on that. The entire soccer team is coming, which means that I might have a chance with Lizzie.”

“Lizzie’s coming?” Josie hadn’t meant for the question to come out so hurt, but Hope’s eyes soften and she smiles sympathetically.

“You guys still not talking?’

“No, not since Rafael asked me out,” Josie groans. “It’s been a week already, she needs to get over it.”

“To be fair, she has been pining after him for a while now. Don’t worry, she’ll move on to another guy soon enough,” Hope says dejectedly. Josie pats her shoulder in support.

“Anyway,” she continues, “are we coming?”

“I just answered!”

“Pleaseeeee. It’s Friday. It’s practically Christmas for high school students.”

“Drop it, Hope. I’m not coming, even if you bribe me with M&Ms. Wait, don’t you even think about doing that!”

 

* * *

 

 

Turns out, Hope doesn’t bribe her with her favorite chocolate. No, she goes lower than that.

She _guilt trips_ Josie.

It’s eight thirty in the evening when Hope rings the doorbell, dressed in leather pants and a denim jacket.

“Fuck off.” Josie moves to close the door.

“Wait, I have a proposition.”

Josie isn’t mean enough to shut the door on Hope’s hand, so she sighs in defeat and lets the girl in.

“Is Lizzie here?”

“You snake. _I’m_ your best friend.”

Hope extends her neck to see past the dining room and waves. “Hi, Mr. Saltzman.”

Her dad smiles. “Nice to see you, Hope. Will you be staying over tonight?”

“I’m actually here to make Josie do the one thing she’s deficient at. Socializing.” Hope beams.

Alaric opens his mouth to respond, but Lizzie beats him to it, walking down the stairs in a low-cut top and heels. “You should make it a test. Then she’ll actually make an effort.”

Josie inhales in a retort. _Choose kind choose kind choose kind_.

“And where are you going, all dressed up like that?” Alaric questions from his seat.

“A party. It’s at some rich girl’s house, so the boys she invited shouldn’t be so annoying.”

Hope’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead as she loops her arm around Josie’s. “Ooh, we’re coming too!”

To Josie’s utter shock, Lizzie’s face doesn’t contort into the slight sneer that usually accompanies Hope’s presence. Instead she gives the redhead a subtle once over and nods. “Nice fit.”

“T - thanks,” Hope stammers. “I’ll see you at the party?”

The corner of Lizzie’s lips lift slightly. “See you.”

Then she’s out, leaving a gaping Hope, a disinclined Josie, and a drinking Alaric in her wake.

Hope spins around. “We have to go.”

“Pass.”

“She complimented my outfit.”

“Hard pass.”

“I’ll never ask you for anything again.”

“I swear, one more word –,”

“I have one shot at getting laid, Jo” — Alaric mutters an excuse and leaves, sighing about teenage hormones — “I mean, you don’t have to go if you really don’t want to…but I’d like to spend quality bonding time with you.”

At Josie’s unrelenting expression, Hope quickly throws in a, “plus, I’ll buy you a new graphing calculator.”

Josie feels herself yielding and grimaces. “Keep the calculator. My TI-83 is perfectly functional, thanks.”

“So you’ll come?”

“Ffffine.”

Hope’s whoops rings throughout the house, and Josie presses her hand to her temple at the headache-inducing mess that’s about to come.

 

* * *

 

 

Contrary to popular belief, Josie _has_ been to parties before. She doesn’t go often, but even people like her need a stress relief once in a while.

The problem is, Penelope Park is definitely a stress inducer, not a relief.

Josie just about jumps when someone speaks right to her neck, low and sultry. “Well well well. You came.” Penelope’s eyes are glazed, and it’s clear that someone’s had a few drinks.

She’s pretty, though. Even through the dark haze and flashing colored lights, Josie can see how long Penelope’s legs look under that short plaid skirt.

“And you’re drunk.” Josie wrinkles her nose. “Sorry, I’m here with a friend, so – Hope?”

Hope has apparently decided to vanish from existence because she’s nowhere to be seen beside her. Josie wants to scream.

“A friend, huh?” Penelope smirks. Then fucking decides to launch herself at Josie’s face, her nose grazing Josie’s throat. “Am I your friend?”

Her breath is light and hot, and Josie feels her heart thumping with the bass of whatever party song is playing in the background.

“Go away, Park. I’m sure you have other girls whose lives you haven’t made miserable yet.” She mentally claps herself on the back for not wavering her words.

Penelope slinks back, raising the bottom of her cup and downing it in one go before grinning. “It’s my house, but I concede. Drinks are in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

And then she’s gone, blending in with the pulsating crowd. Josie takes a breath of relief, then heads straight to the kitchen. She needs a drink. And kill Hope for ditching her. And avoid Lizzie.

In that order.

She finds Landon and MG hanging out by the living room and goes to join them, armed with a cup of surprisingly good beer in hand and a determination to make it through the night without making too many regrets. The boys are good company, and they talk about comic books and TV shows and science until Josie feels her head buzzing from the alcohol and settles into it.

“Seven minutes in heaven,” someone calls out above the music, and then people start piling in together to join, flopping on the carpet with the grace of a newborn calf.

“What are we, middle schoolers?” Josie mumbles.

“Come on, Jose. It’s gonna be fun,” MG grins. Him and his positivity.

Among the haphazard circle of teenagers, she spots Hope chatting animatedly with Lizzie. Her sister must already be drunk because her smile is dopey and she’s nodding lazily to whatever the redhead has to say.

She catches Hope’s eye, and Josie raises a finger to mime slitting her throat. Hope mouths an _I love you_ at her.

“Alright. You know how this goes. Spin the bottle and spend seven minutes in a closet with whoever it points to. The rest of us play truth or dare while we wait,” Jed whoops. He hands an empty beer bottle to Penelope, who Josie realizes with a startle is also there. “My lady.”

Penelope smirks and spins the bottle, grin widening when it lands on Cassie, a hot blonde senior who’s on track to go to Harvard. Her boyfriend stiffens beside her.

Josie feels her stomach churn uncomfortably at the sight of Penelope and Cassie walking into the closet together, but chalks it off to the beer. Penelope can make out with whoever she wants. Why is this even a problem?

Luckily, the bottle doesn’t land on her often, so she gets to avoid most of the truth or dare rounds. There’s a question from one of MG’s friends, Kaleb, if she recalls, who asks what instruments she plays (piano, ukulele, guitar), and a dare from a bored-looking girl who tells her to do twenty push-ups in a row that leaves her sweaty by the end of it, but for the most part Josie gets to sit and watch as other people get increasingly drunk and make fools of themselves.

Penelope and Cassie finally stumble out of the closet, giggling. Josie’s heart clenches involuntarily when Cassie runs a hand down Penelope’s arm before taking a seat beside her boyfriend, who immediately puts a protective arm around her. Penelope returns to her original position amongst her squad and spins the bottle at Kara, who then spins it at Lena. They enter the closet together and Josie closes her eyes, prepares herself for yet another round of truth or dare.

At one point, her bottle lands at Hope, and she responds to Hope’s ‘truth’ with, “How many times have you been a bottom versus the times you’ve been a top?”

Josie knows the answer to that, so she just smiles smugly when Hope flips a finger at her and reluctantly answers, “all of them.”

Hope cheers up, though, when Lizzie giggles at her answer.

The thing with seven minutes in heaven is that it takes such a long time to play. Over the course of an hour, only eight pairs get to do whatever it is they want to do in the closet, so truth or dare gradually becomes stale and people opt to chat or scroll through their phones instead while waiting.

Her sister finally gets the bottle, and Josie watches with little interest as spins it. Then watches with a lot more interest when it lands on Hope right beside her. Lizzie grabs Hope’s wrist and pulls her towards the closet, and Josie barely has enough time to shoot Hope a thumbs up before the door slams shut and a muffled thud rings from inside.

Gross.

She takes another sip from her cup. It’s been upgraded to vodka and red bull, which tastes disgusting but was too tempting of an offer from Kaleb to pass up. Something about the way Penelope grins at Cassie earlier lingers in her mind, and all Josie wants to do is erase that memory.

So she does it with alcohol. Like all self-destructive high schoolers do.

(She’s careful, though. She knows how dangerous it can be, how sad it makes her dad whenever he pours himself a glass of tequila and look at albums of the friends he lost.)

Hope and Lizzie finally exit, Hope with swollen lips and an astonished expression, Lizzie with soft eyes and a satisfied grin.

Josie’s going to give both of them shit later. She’s too young to be a third wheel.

Somehow, the bottle ends up in Penelope’s hands again. Josie is seriously contemplating to go back to the kitchen for a refill (for the drink, not because of the way her heart falls when Penelope inevitably makes out with another girl) when she feels MG’s elbow digging her side.

“What?” She follows his line of gaze and lands on the bottle in front of Penelope pointed straight at her. “Crap.”

“Let’s go, Jojo.” Penelope’s voice carries from across the room, and now everybody’s staring at her. Normally Josie would shrink under all the attention, but instead the alcohol in her moves her legs and before she knows it, she’s already stumbling out of the circle, grumbling about seven minutes in hell.

Penelope closes the door to a “get it, Josie!” which sounds suspiciously like Hope, and Josie crosses her arms and knocks her head back on the wood behind her.

“This is the worst day of my life.”

“Aww, don’t tell me you don’t want to get it with this.” Penelope waggles her eyebrows ridiculously.

“I don’t want Cassie’s sloppy seconds, thanks,” Josie says in disgust.

“You jealous?”

“You wish.” She avoids Penelope’s gaze and focuses on her the wall above her instead. The closet is dark, but someone had placed fairy lights above them and they cast a soft glow on Penelope’s face.

There’s only a foot separating them, so Josie winces when her knees knock into Penelope’s.

“Cassie and I were only trying to see how many differential equations we could solve without paper.” At Josie’s questioning gaze, she adds, “We’re in the mathlete team together.”

“God. How are you so popular?”

Penelope’s expression is thoughtful when she says, “You know, I never understood why you hated me so much.”

“I don’t hate you,” Josie sputters drunkenly. “Well, maybe a little…b - but it’s only because it’s  so unfair.”

“What’s unfair?”

“You’re popular and and crazy smart and pretty and everybody likes you. It’s not fair that you get to win at everything.” She’s spilling her guts out to her nemesis. God, how strong was that vodka?

“Everybody likes you too, Josie,” Penelope says quietly. Her eyes are glittering with something that Josie can’t identify.

“No, they don’t. They like my sister. I’m just the afterthought. The footnote, if you will. Nobody ever notices me first,” she sighs.

Her mood turns sour when Penelope absentmindedly remarks, “I mean, I started messing with you because I felt sorry about that.”

Great. So now she learns that Penelope Park only started paying attention to her because of pity.

To her credit, Penelope winces when she realizes how that came out. “Wait, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Josie mutters bitterly, even though her heart sinks for the second time that night. “Save it.

“No, listen,” Penelope says, almost desperately. “What I meant was, I thought it was a shame that no one ever bothered to see you outside of your sister’s shadow. That’s why I started the teasing. I wanted you to know that someone saw you first.”

“Why?” The question falls out of Josie’s lips, and even through her drunken state, she’s acutely aware of their position and how soft Penelope’s lips look under the fairy lights.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Huh?”

Penelope smirks. “Let’s just say that it wasn’t Allison that made me distracted during the trivia bowl. It maybe had something to do with Rafael flirting with you the entire time we were on stage.”

Josie’s mouth falls open. “You cost us the championship because you were jealous? We lost our winning streak because of that!”

“Jesus, calm down.” Penelope raises her hands defensively. “Is that really all you got from that?”

“No,” she reluctantly admits. “I - I got the other parts, too.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

Instead of answering, Penelope does two things simultaneously. First, she fumbles with something by the door until there’s a soft click ( _what kind of closet locks from the inside_ , Josie thinks). Then, she presses her lips tentatively on Josie’s, barely a ghost of a kiss, and a single thought runs through Josie’s mind.

_Fuck it._

She grabs Penelope’s collar and pushes her against the closet wall, and it’s a testament to the closet’s sturdy design that they don’t immediately tip over and fall sideways.

The kiss is forceful but quiet, and Josie lets every part of her frustration build up and spill over in the way her hips instinctively contort into Penelope. She feels Penelope’s hand on the back of her neck and holds back a moan as the other girl place kisses down her throat.

“I’m still better in math,” Josie blurts out, because hey, she’s in the middle of a drunk make out session with her academic rival. Her ego needs a boost.

“Save it for Monday,” Penelope growls, and Josie’s knees go embarrassingly weak at the sound.

Scratch that, then.

“This is probably a huge mistake, right?”

Someone raps on the door. “Time’s up,” Jed yells, his voice muffled.

Neither of them answer. Josie’s too distracted by Penelope’s hand snaking up her shirt.

Three more knocks. “Come on. Other people need their turns in heaven, too.”

“It’s my house,” Penelope yells. Then, quieter, “what was that about mistakes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

**Author's Note:**

> @ queersupergirls on tumblr


End file.
